Connor's Gamble Read Online Free

show them all.  They're gonna see Connor Scott for who he really is .
    Coward.
Fraud.
Murderer.
     
     

Chapter Four
    Thursday
     
    A pool of matted dark red blood spread out in a macabre halo beneath the gray hair of Mrs. Abigail Spencer.  For one brief moment, Connor gave thanks he hadn't eaten breakfast yet.  It wouldn't do to spew chunks all over the poor old woman.
    He whirled around at Alyssa's sharp intake of breath right behind him.  Damn it, he'd told her to wait outside.  Then again, why was he surprised she hadn't listened?  The whole time they'd been married, she'd never listened to anything he'd said then, either.
    “Connor?  Is she . . .?”
    “Dead?”  Connor knelt beside the old lady, careful not to touch anything.  Reaching forward, he pressed his fingertips against the side of her neck, checking for any indication of life.  He felt nothing.  No pulse.  No rise and fall of her chest.  “Looks that way.”
    “Oh dear,” she whispered.  “There's so much blood.”
    “Yeah.”
    Standing, he took a couple of steps back, reached into his pocket for his cell phone and dialed nine-one-one.
    “I need the police at the Wayward Wanderer Inn on I-10.  There's been a death . . . That's right . . . No, there are two of us in the room . . . Yes, ma'am, we'll wait right outside the door for the officers to get here.  Thank you.”
    Within minutes the familiar wail of sirens drew closer, accompanied by flashing lights.  Killing the siren, one uniformed and one plainclothes officer alighted from the patrol car and walked toward him.  Since all the rooms were located on the ground floor, spectators filled the parking lot and milled about in the now crowded hallways.
    Connor spotted several folks from the tour group standing a few doors away, anxiety and concern clear in their expressions.  Mrs. Spencer was one of their own.  He knew Alyssa would deal with the aftermath of this tragedy, offering compassion and sympathy to each Whispering Pines resident.  Who'd share a little sympathy with her, he wondered?
    “Lyssa, why don't you talk with your group while I explain to the officers what’s happened.”  The only thing that would keep her from dwelling on finding a dead body, especially someone she knew, was to keep her busy.  He knew Alyssa well enough that giving her something to focus on, a task to perform, made the most sense.  Pale, in obvious shock, she went into immediate helper mode.  He wished he could hold her, comfort her through the trauma of what she'd witnessed, but he had to deal with the cops.
    The people from Whispering Pines Senior Living Center needed to be handled gently.
    Damn.  First a bus crash and now one of them is dead.  How much more can these old folks take?
    The clearing of a throat brought things rushing back to the here and now.
    “Officers, I'm Connor Scott.  I called in the death.”
    Without a word, the uniformed police officer, a tall, rail-thin Hispanic man walked through the door into Abigail Spencer's room.  The other stayed next to Connor.  Pulling out a notebook and pen, he got right down to business.  That's good, Connor thought.
    “Mr. Scott, I’m Detective Taglier.  How did you know the deceased?”  The southern drawl followed by an 'I'm your good buddy' grin immediately grated on Connor's nerves.  Hell, he didn't even know this guy and already the hairs on the back of his neck stood at attention and he wanted to growl a warning to back the hell off.
    “Mrs. Spencer was a passenger on our tour bus.  We had an accident yesterday afternoon.  Slid on an icy patch on the interstate.  Veered off the road.”
    “Yeah, I heard about it down at the station.  Was she injured in the accident?”
    “Nothing serious that I'm aware of.”  Connor stood with arms akimbo, looking at the policeman.  Something didn't sit right about him even though he was just doing his job.
    “She had a bump on her forehead, I think.  It bled a bit but she was